


Sleep Deprived

by usabuns



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:18:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4200651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usabuns/pseuds/usabuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick glance over to the digital clock on her desk confirms that it is indeed far too late for her to be working in the lab.</p><p>**UPDATE** Now a two shot! Rating changed to M for the second part.</p><p>**UPDATE** Added the third and final part, which is an alternate ending with fluff instead of smut!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Exhaustion overtakes her body as if it were a disease, leaving her head throbbing and her eyes glazed over. A quick glance over to the digital clock on her desk confirms that it is indeed far too late for her to be working in the lab. But she was just so close to unraveling the secrets that hid within the Saiyan body....Such a shame she had to go to sleep. 

She knew she'd get a stern talking to by her husband if she pulled another all-nighter; they'd gotten into quite the arguement last time she did this and she was determined to not make him worry (though he'd probably say 'concerned for your well-being' rather than 'worried') about her again. He was always so worrysome of his family after the Majin Buu incident, but a little good came out of it in the form of him showing more affection towards their little boy.

With a yawn, Bulma groggily pushes her tools aside, resolving to pick up on her work the next morning. She opens her eyes wider this time and the time actually registers in her worn-out brain: it already is the next morning. The woman grumbles and pushes her hair out of her face (a habit that her son has seemingly inherited) and gives her eyes much needed relief by closing them for a few seconds. 

The stairs leading to their bedroom prove to be quite the trek for her, but the promise of landing soundly on her plush, king-size bed provides the most motivation she's ever had in her life. Passing by Trunks's room, she spots him sound asleep, as he very well should've been at this hour. Though perhaps he was still awake, telepathically communicating with Goten whilst feigning sleep. No, he's too sweet for such deception, Bulma decides, and so she closes his door without inspecting the matter further. 

Her pace slows down, as she is left to wonder if Vegeta had tucked Trunks in for the night or if the boy had done it himself. She backtracks, creaking the door open while praying that he won't awaken. One step, then two. She can see the sheets clearly now, and they look as if they are trying to be neat, or were meant to be neat, but the placer was either too tired or didn't exactly care enough to make it that way.

Could it have been Vegeta's work? Bulma just couldn't tell at all, and she assumes he did until otherwise stated; the thought of him being fatherly makes her gush proudly. 

The door squeaks closed again and a light pitter-patter of delicate feet pressing against polished wood is heard throughout the halls. 

She rounds the final corner, her bedroom door sliding into her view. It feels as if she's one step closer to a desert oasis. A sigh of relief escapes her mouth. She is too tired to keep her spine straight at this point, and she always her back to curve ever so slightly as she continues to move forward. Bulma walks with closed eyes only because she can tell the door is near; her thoughts and night's work sifting and jumping around and racking her brain to its very core. Soon she will collapse onto her bed with her sweet, sweet husband lying beside her. 

Another couple of steps and she can practically taste her victory over sleep deprivation. No way was she gonna fall dead alseep in the middle of the hallway, not when she was this close to slumber in a nice, fluffy bed with those warm sheets wrapped around her form. 

A smile appears on her face; a sultry and desire-filled one. So close. 

The next thing she knows, she is colliding with what she had originally thought was the wall. Her eyes go wide in shock as she stumbles backwards, nearly falling to the ground. She's surprised her feet have held their own for such a long period of time. 

Her husband stands before her, and she finally realizes why she thought she hit the wall. She never knew how much stronger he had gotten since Buu's defeat; he had been training twice as hard and long and now it was certainly apparant to Bulma. His face is as cold and unflinching as ever, but she detects an accusatory look in his eyes. Standing up straighter, Bulma represses a yawn and scowls back at him in a mocking manner. 

He gives a grunt before crossing his arms and turning away. She giggles quietly. He could never truly intimidate her anymore, and it seemed as if that got on his nerves. "The only weak Earthling that I can't get to," is what he would probably spat. Teasing, only. Her hands automatically shift to her hips. 

They are the same height, so his eyes stare deeply into hers as she does the same. A staredown, no doubt. Eventually, she tries to push past him, but he holds out an arm to stop her, and it's so solid that she doesn't even attempt to move it over. 

"Who tied your panties in a knot? Let me through, I need sleep..." He doesn't move. Arms crossed, she raises her voice half an octave so as to not wake her child, "I said move over! It's late and I really don't feel like arguing--"

"--That's the third time this week, woman, and it's only Wednesday. Do you want to wear yourself out this much?" It's strange, hearing Vegeta whisper-shout, but she finds herself liking it. He's right, she knows. She has been awfully neglectful and forgetful because of her poor sleeping habits as of late. 

Vegeta and Trunks were the ones who suffered most of all. How was she to properly function with little to no sleep? It wasn't fair to them, and the guilt ate her up inside. The blues of her eyes drift down, resting upon the ground, her brows lowering in thought. 

She ignores the fact that he cut her off and continues, "I just get too caught up in my work sometimes." In a fit of anger and helplessness and guilt, she adds, "It's not like you don't do the same; all you do is train these days. You never have enough spare time for us, dammit..." She had dropped the bomb. It was uncalled for, unnecessary, untrue. He had always been there since they married, they had raised their son together, and he was probably there more than she was. Maybe she had gone too far, maybe he'd snap at her. All the same, Bulma locks her gaze with his, a burning passion in her facial features that cease abruptly when she sees Vegeta's own look of guilt and shock rest upon his face. 

She's never seen him with this sort of feeling painted on him, with this sort of realization in his eyes. It surprises her just as much as it surprises him. And in an instant, the look fades away into nothing but a memory. Her arms relax, hanging limp at her sides. He won't meet her eyes, but she's sure that if he did she'd end up bursting out in tears, and she won't allow herself to do that in front of him; not in this moment. 

"...Shut up, woman." He's quiet, quieter than she ever thought he could will his voice to sound, and it scares her to no end. She has to strain her ears (already too exhausted and numbed) to make out his words. That teasing phrase, one that used to piss her off but gradually made her snicker and blush, that harmless phrase now holds no meaning. It made her heart sink, how faded its substance was in that sentence. 

She refuses to speak for a bit, because her brain forces her not to, even though she wants to talk, to apologize, to say that it's all going to be okay. Silence still lingers in the air; there is no need for pointless words. 

She's even more tired now, in every sense of the word. All she wants is to sleep, and yet, Bulma feels as if she's never been more awake and alive.

The muscles in her arms tighten as she swings them around his chest and waist, her body pouncing on his. The impact doesn't shift his position even a little bit; after all, what kind of human could overpower a Saiyan? A puff of surprise hitches in his throat before he realizes what's happening, and (albeit awkwardly) his arms wrap around her slender form. 

Bulma cranes her neck and buries her face into him. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, closing his eyes. She won't allow herself to cry; this one action has reconciled so much between them. It is a happy moment, not a sad one. She tightens her grip, never wanting to lose him or let him go ever again. 

"Y-You know I don't mean any of that, right?" she asks, her voice muffled by his clothing. She doesn't look up, seeing his face will spoil the mood. A deep breath escapes Vegeta's lips as if the question is too stupid for him to even consider. As if the answer is obvious. 

She is grateful that her sleeping son's room is so far away; even with their lowered voices, he probably would've woken up by now if he were closer. They weren't exactly quiet people, the two of them. 

"...I know. You never do," he whispers into her blue locks, pulling her closer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I decided to update this one shot since I didn't like the original ending very much (I almost always make endings super cheesy). I've had this in the works for quite some time, but since today's Bulma's birthday, I finished it up. I tried experimenting a bit and put no dialogue this time, so tell me what you think!
> 
> As I put in the description, this new chapter is rated Mature for a reason. While I don't bluntly write any 'mature' type things, this is smut so you have been warned. 
> 
> This is unedited, so feel free to notify me of any typos you may find!!

She makes a big show out of shutting their door especially quietly. He notices. So dramatic, that one, but who says that's a bad thing? Quickly she follows him across the room, tip-toeing all the while, and then jumps onto the bed with a heavy sigh on her lips. 

Her arms and legs are spread out wide across the sheets, but the bed's so big that her fingertips can't even reach the matress's edge. Humans are so tiny, so weak. 

So vulnerable. 

With renewed interest, Vegeta barely blinks at the display before smirking and pouncing atop his wife. His calloused fists scrunch the blankets between fingers and palm, so much so that they nearly rip the fabric. She had always told him how much she liked how rough Saiyans were. Through screams of lust, of course. 

Before he can even have a second thought, he lets his instincts take over. She bites her lip, the cocky grin painted on her face somehow beckoning for him to do more, to come in for the kill. 

Challenging him. Him, the prince of all Saiyans! An easy win. 

He won't lose; he won't disappoint his queen. A deep, guttural purr echoes in his throat, just slightly reaching his mate's ears. Holding back a laugh, Bulma grips iron-tight onto his neck, right where his hairline meets solid flesh. She spreads her legs wider, wraps them around his waist, plants a seductive kiss on his cheek. 

He does not falter in his show of strength and power. He can feel his Saiyan blood boiling as if he were in the middle of a heated battle with some robotic tyrant or war-mongering beast from beyond the stars. And perhaps this is exactly as intense as a fight. The prince leans in closer to his wife's petite, bare figure, leaving bite marks on her chest and breasts. 

She really can't help but tease him as he plays with the upper half of her body. He's rather sensitive when his lower half is put into the picture. A little stroking here and there garners a gruff squeak-like noise out of him and an almost inaudible giggle out of her. Though, with his Saiyan hearing, he more than likely heard it. 

Untapped passion slowly makes its way out of Vegeta's body, getting increasingly stronger with every hip movement, every kiss upon her lips and neck, every tightening of his fingers on her shoulders. 

She is so hot, so tired of screaming and moaning his name over and over again. But she can't get enough of it; she needs to continue, and he seems more than happy to fufill her requests. 

He still has as much stamina now as when he first started. He could do this all night, if it weren't for the little brat that would always disturb them in the wee hours of the morning because of some nightmares or something. Surely he would be braver, considering he was a Saiyan?

And there was always the possibility that Mr. & Mrs. Brief would be awoken, but they'd be used to this by now, yes? Though Bulma might not be embarrassed, he probably would be. 

Shaking his head, he concentrates deeper, further; so that even the recesses of his mind hold focus on this present task. No time to consider that now. He pushes her up against the bedframe extrordinarily hard. A squeal emanates from her mouth as her tongue licks up and down his abdomen. 

Their positions shift. Now, Bulma's on top of him, breathing heavily with sweat dotting her forehead, and Vegeta's smiling up at her with that evil smile of his. Her hair tickles his chest as she pumps up and down, up and down relentlessly in perfect tune. A steady flow of shivers creep up her spine. 

Every primal sense in his body knows that it's happening, and even then her screeches already give it away immediately. Vegeta steps in, turning the tides and flipping the both of them over in one consistent, fluid motion. He grabs her and pulls her closer as his passes, as he thrusts and rolls his hips and traces his fingers across her flat abdomen. 

She feels as if her body is going to break into a million pieces; feels as if the ecstasy building inside of her will burst at any second. It's in these moments the Bulma feels exceptionally fragile, as any human very well should feel in the presence of a Saiyan. 

The situation is reversed in his case. Each surge of emotions that goes through his very being makes him hungry for more power. As much as he wants to go on, he knows he can't. She gives him the signal: one deep breath and three taps with her right middle finger upon the bed. It was amazing, really, how they could speak without words. 

She's even more exhausted than before, even more longing for sweet slumber. Yet, she is exhilirated all the same. 

Her head now rests on the pillow. He cuddles closely next to her in an attempt to show affection. He was never very good at that. 

She is still tired, but at least now a warm body is beside her; at least now she is comforted before sleep whisks her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also been thinking of possibly making a third chapter as an alternate ending instead of this chapter, for those who prefer fluff and feels over this kind of thing. If any of you are interested, please don't hesitate to let me know!! 
> 
> For now, bye bye until next time, and thanks for reading until the end!! Your support is greatly appreciated!! :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to adding a chapter for fluff! Enjoy this while I go write some Gochi & Hanvi stuff~ 
> 
> And of course, if there are any typos let me know & I will correct them!

One thing was for certain: he would not allow her to fall asleep unless his arms were firmly wrapped around her like vines clinging to a fence. His grip so protective and strong, and yet also so gentle and loving. 

He sniffs the top of her head. The scent of human shampoo always fascinated him. Sweat also permeates her hair. The soft blanket carefully placed over them provides even more heat than they already produce. Bulma shifts, her face not towards him. Vegeta doesn't know if she's sleeping or not, so he simply inches closer to her back. The fit together like puzzle pieces, as if they were born and shaped to spoon each other in such a way. 

No reaction from the woman. Good. It was better if she relaxed. He could feel her ki, however dull and small, lowering dramatically. Her breaths become steady and slow. 

She fumbles around for a bit, moves her arms into another position, fidgeting with the sheets. She's compromised. He almost groans. "Rest, Bulma. Sleep." 

He pulls her in tighter, closer. She freezes at his words and lets him draw her in. Their pillow feels so much softer in this moment, so much more welcoming. "I'm trying, but-"

"-'But' what?" He feels as if he already knows the answer, but he lets her say it herself. 

"But I keep thinking about work, okay? I have experiments to test and paperwork to hand in and meetings to attend and-"

Vegeta clamps a hand over her mouth in a passive-aggressive sort of way. Her yells of 'Get your hands off of me!' and 'What the hell, Vegeta!' are muffled, and eventually she stops resisting. He lets go. 

"There's more than enough time to worry about those things tomorrow." She knows that he's right, so she gives a slow nod of her head.  

Silence. Neither one of them dares to speak, or even to move. Everything unspoken means more than what is spoken. Sleep requires silence, but she still does not want to sleep just yet. 

"I love you, Vegeta." He does not answer, but rather nuzzles the nape of her neck in affirmation. He's hotter now, perhaps from embarrassment? His teeth clench together; he's surprised she can't hear them. 

Though he hates to admit it, the Earthling woman's got quite a grasp on him already. How that happened, he'll never know. There was always something so...endearing and ethereal about her that Vegeta could never place. 

"Bulma..." His voice is quiet, tired, drawn-out. He hopes that she hadn't heard him, and yet some part of him hopes she'll laugh or scooch closer to him. Her name sounds too innocent to be said on his lips, Vegeta decides. It's too perfect to be tainted with his speech. 

A deep sigh is let out by the prince; oh how pathetic it was that this one, weak, Earthling woman could have him wrapped around her finger in such a way. Out of all the positions he thought he'd end up in in life, this was definitely not high on the list. 

But he can't say he doesn't like it. No, far from it; he enjoys this kind of lifestyle, even if he won't ever admit it. Maybe the brat isn't so bad, maybe the planet isn't so bad, and for a fact he knows his mate isn't bad at all. 

At once Vegeta's got a muscular arm shielding her from everything bad; his head is pressed firmly into the side of her neck. He begins to wonder if she's asleep. In her ear, he whispers so softly that a mouse wouldn't be able to hear: "I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Well I wrote this in only a couple of hours and I think I could've added more to this but I don't really feel like it. I might add an alternate ending with smut instead, or maybe I'll expand on this a bit later. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, and be sure to tell me if I made any typos!!


End file.
